conversation can wait ::
by Fardarrig
Summary: Roy is kind of an ass. / RoyEd This will be a two-part story. And the first chapter is literally just smut, no getting around it.


"Fucking drunk," Ed grunted, heaving his superior's arm further around himself, struggling to support his weight. Mustang weighed a lot more than he would have thought, and the fact the older man absolutely refused to walk in a straight line meant every pound was the blonde's responsibility. "Can't even fucking call Hawkeye, what the fuck." His complaints fell on deaf ears, though he could feel the other man's eyes on him the entire time. Mustang seemed to be quite fascinated by his underling's face, which only made Ed the tiniest bit uneasy, and only for the sole reason that his counterpart rarely studied him so intently.

"This better be your house," the alchemist warned, staggering up to the address the older scientist had slurred out. "I'm gonna kick your ass if it isn't."

Ed had gotten the phone call from the bar maybe forty-five minutes before, half conscious, two in the morning. He'd only just gotten back from a mission, so he'd been exhausted and tumbled into bed just as the phone rang; Al had offered to go with him, but even if his brother couldn't sleep, his time would be better spent examining their most recent notes, to try and see if there was something that connected. Ed could handle this.

He might have been tired, but the sudden onset of icy rain woke him up quick enough, and he'd sprinted most of the way to the bar, trying to hide under cover. Unfortunately, he only got there in time for it to close, and a completely hammered Roy Mustang was deposited in his arms. Why the bar hadn't called Hawkeye or Hughes or Havoc, Ed had no fucking idea, but he certainly wasn't going to wake them up when he was capable of handling this. It just wasn't the most…wonderful way to spent his evening. Mustang better not fucking expect him to deliver the report before nine, or there would be Hell to pay.

At least under the shelter of the porch, the rain couldn't reach them, and Ed resisted the urge to snuggle into the warm body next to him. If nothing else, Mustang threw heat like a fucking fire, and it was overwhelmingly tempting just to bury his face in his side and pretend life didn't suck. Just for the evening. But the fact that Mustang might possibly remember something of his night meant Ed couldn't risk it, no matter how nice it would be.

The Flame Alchemist stumbled out of Ed's grip, surprising him, and the blonde started to grab for him before realizing the older man was attempting to unlock the door, digging around in his pockets to find his key. Rolling golden eyes, Ed joined him, swatting the clumsy fingers away. "You'll just drop it," he scolded, meeting a dark gaze, before his attention focused on finding the keys. Not in his jacket pocket, not in his undershirt pocket…there, same pocket as his pocket watch. Ed tried to ignore the fact he had his hand buried in his superior's pants, but he wasn't sure he completely succeeded, face warming slightly. And if he didn't know any better, he would swear that drunken idiot had the ghost of a smirk on his face at the blush. But probably not; he couldn't even walk, right? It was doubtful he'd be able to identify embarrassment.

Unlocking the door, the blonde alchemist dragged his companion inside, finding a lamp relatively quickly just inside the doorway. Light flooded the entrance hallway, and Ed glanced around briefly, determining only that it was spacious before focusing back on the other man. Roy stood unsure, attention still focused on Ed, and the younger man let out a heavy sigh, stepping back to his side.

"You can't stay in these wet clothes." Honestly, Mustang was a fucking child when he was drunk. "You'll get fucking sick and then what good are you? Where's your bedroom?" No answer. Of fucking course. Ed scowled, looping his arm around the taller male's waist again, ducking his head under the limp arm. "Try to hold onto me, at least, Mustang. I could use a little help." He hadn't been sure anything was getting through, but obediently, he felt the grip tighten, fingers curling in the fabric of his drenched jacket, and his gaze turned briefly appreciative, glancing at the intoxicated Colonel. Good. At least he understood that much.

Hefting the other man on a brief journey around the house, the sixteen-year-old determined quickly that the bedroom wasn't on the ground floor, and began the harrowing adventure up the stairs. During which Roy was of very little help, leaving Ed practically wheezing by the time he reached the top stair. He could just fucking fall asleep here if he let his guard down; the late hour, recent mission, and the fact he was dragging a hundred-eighty pounds of dead weight around was not doing much for his energy levels.

"Fatass," he huffed out, shuffling to the nearest door, hoping desperately that their journey was done with and they had reached the bedroom. They had not. Two more tries, however, and he let a sigh of relief. "Finally. Now you need to get out of that shit," he motioned at the other man's wardrobe, getting a puzzled, blank stare in return. Ed sighed again, a hand going to his temple. "Do I seriously have to help you with this?" Honestly.

"You're supposed to be a genius," he griped, unbuttoning the front jacket. "I don't understand what the fuck you're doing, getting so drunk. Why would you call me, anyway? I don't know how to take care of you." As predicted, he received no answer, but that didn't really faze him by this point. "Do I stay with you? Do I go home?" He honestly had never been in a situation such as this before, and after a couple moments of silence, he slid the jacket off the other man's shoulders, turning away to find a place to hang it to dry.

Didn't seem to be Mustang's plans, though, because Ed felt arms wrap around his middle, dragging him back into a warm, damp body, dropping the jacket with a wet plop in his surprise. An entirely unmanly squeal escaped him at the feeling of teeth and tongue on the back of his neck, and he froze like a deer in headlights, fingers clenching in the fabric of Roy's undershirt, eyes massive. He knew the other man was drunk – hard to miss – but really?! This drunk? Had he mistaken Ed for one of his floozies?

In a normal situation, Ed would easily dispatch the other man. But he was exhausted, and as it was, even drunk, Mustang had the good sense to detach his arm. How he'd even thought of it, considering he'd been incapable of speaking coherently, the blonde wasn't certain, but suddenly he was a cripple again, and thoroughly contained with a hand in his shirt. Anyway, he hadn't wanted to hurt the other man; he'd just assumed, till that point, that he was drunk and confused and easily shooed away. He'd just taken a couple seconds to try to get over his surprise. A couple seconds too long. And while it perhaps didn't hurt terribly to have the automail so abruptly removed, the promise of future pain was enough to irritate him.

"What the fuck, Mustang," he yelped, arm hitting the floor with a heavy thud, beginning to struggle. "That's going to fucking hurt to put back on!" Roy seemed unfazed by the displeasure of his companion, dragging his teeth down the back of the other man's neck, receiving an unwilling shudder in response, grip on his shirt suddenly tightening. "I'm not one of your dates!" Ed nearly pleaded, cheeks already flushed with embarrassment, and Roy noted mildly they hadn't even really done much yet. His theory of virginity was likely right, but he planned on thoroughly putting the idea to rest. Immediately.

Edward squeaked when his back hit the bed, bouncing, struggling to get his bearings and sit up. He didn't move fast enough, though, because very quickly he was once more pinned and disoriented, the other man's weight a stubborn force. Before he could argue or cuss, there was a mouth claiming his, and his eyes widened further with a pressure between his legs. What the fuck did he think he was doing? He squealed into the other man's mouth when the pressure suddenly rolled against his crotch, and he suddenly had another tongue wrestling with his. Apparently that had been a bad call on his part. Great. And as another fucking wonderful note, all he could taste beside Roy himself was apple juice. That motherfucker.

Roy pulled back abruptly, staring down at his prisoner, and Ed felt a chill at the fiercely possessive expression on his superior's face. And the startlingly clear gaze; that was a sober man if he'd ever fucking seen one. "Mustang?" he was out of breath, unsure, and the older man's eyes narrowed slightly before he leaned down to claim Ed's throat again, apparently determined to thoroughly mark him as his, and a gasped moan escaped the not-entirely willing participant, fingers buried in the thin cloth of the other man's shirt.

While his neck was predictably sensitive, Roy had several suspicions about the other boy's body that needed looking into, and he set to doing just that, practically ripping the alchemist's jacket off his body, throwing it away somewhere to land in a wet clump. They could deal with it in the morning. Next went the black shirt, and Roy cursed the heavens that Ed wore so many damn layers. The undershirt was the bane of his existence at the moment, especially since, unlike the other articles of clothing, he would have to briefly cease his attentions to the other boy's throat and collarbone to remove it. When he became Fuhrer, the first order of business would be to stop letting Ed have clothing. Or if he did, he'd have to be subject to the same miniskirt order as the women. That would be the compromise.

"Let me go," Ed ordered, though the panting and flushed face led little credibility to the command, and Roy arched an eyebrow at the younger man, a smirk curling his lips.

"Really, Fullmetal?" his hand slid down over the other man's stomach, to where his leather pants were obscenely tight. "You really want to leave with this?" He received a whimper for his efforts when he squeezed lightly, long fingers curling around the bulge. "It wouldn't be very comfortable. And it's still raining. You should just," his teeth found the other man's ear. "Spend the night."

"You're supposed," the blonde grit his teeth, fighting a moan when the other man squeezed again. "To be drunk," his voice was accusing, and Roy fought a smile, finally pulling back to peel the other boy's shirt off. Instead of fighting or trying to escape, Ed took the break to catch his breath, trying to calm down his rapid heart rate. It wasn't so much that he wasn't intrigued by where things were going; the idea had just been dropped on him with a little less warning than he would have liked. He needed a couple extra seconds to try to organize his thoughts.

The Flame Alchemist took another moment to admire the body beneath his, making the furious blush on Ed's cheeks grow darker, gold eyes glaring up at the older scientist. "What are you looking at?" he demanded, now trying to make an effort to shift away, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "Get off."

"Unlikely to happen." Roy said mildly, fingertips grazing over the tan skin, noting with great pleasure that it was as soft as he'd pictured. "You're beautiful."

Ed was pretty sure the lack of sarcasm sent his heart into palpitations, and he struggled to breathe for a moment, trying to figure out how to handle the situation at hand, which gave Roy plenty of opportunity to work his way down from his throat and collarbone to his nipple. A surprised mewl escaped the blonde at the strange sensation, back arching off the bed, clutching desperately at the other man's back. _Shit_. His mouth was deliciously hot, and that fucking tongue. The Elric had very little chance to think of where exactly this was going, far too distracted by the moment at hand. Not that he could have escaped if he wanted to; his will to fight was significantly dampened by both the loss of his arm and the insistent hard-on in his trousers.

The older alchemist had no such problems, though, deft fingers working to undo the buttons on the inappropriately tight leather pants. Honestly; how the Hell did he think he could wear these and not get fucked against the nearest surface? Slipping his hands past the waistline of the now slightly looser trousers, Roy spread his fingers, marveling at the soft skin. Ed really had no excuse to be so soft; wasn't he out in the field all the time? Shouldn't he be rougher? But Roy certainly wasn't complaining; the younger man was built like a damn God, and the fact that he felt like velvet to touch was simply a bonus. Perhaps he could chalk that up to age.

Ed jumped a bit in surprise when suddenly both the mouth and his pants were gone, leaving him extremely cold and exposed. Automatically, he tried to close his legs, though Roy prevented that quickly enough, situating himself between his subordinate's thighs, hands a searing warmth on the sensitive skin. "No boxers today, Fullmetal?" The amusement in his superior's voice was hard to miss, and if possible, the blonde's blush darkened.

"Fuck you. I'm out of clean laundry." Rude motherfucker. He hadn't exactly expected anyone to see him without pants today, he hardly thought he needed Mustang's criticisms on the matter...

"I wasn't complaining."

Oh.

The Elric had little time to process that before long fingers had wrapped themselves around his length, a shameless moan escaping him, grip tightening on Mustang's shirt. "Fuck," the hissed cuss was more desperate than angry, head falling back on the bed, showing off a throat thoroughly decorated with lovebites. _Shit_, Mustang had nice hands. Nearly as nice as his mouth, from what the blonde could tell.

It took a few moments longer than it should have to recognize the hardness pressing against his ass. In his defense, Ed was kind of preoccupied with the hand on his dick, and for another thing, Roy still had his trousers on, so it wasn't immediately obvious to the blonde what the pressure was, but upon realizing, he practically froze. His eyes were huge, and the sudden tension in the body under his prompted Roy to pause in his ministrations, arching a dark eyebrow, not removing his hand.

"Uh," Ed was at a loss; he supposed it was only logical for the other man to be hard, but it made it perfectly clear where this was going. Which only served to make him more nervous; he really hadn't been consulted much at all on this decision, and to be honest, he'd not ever put much thought into it. His knowledge on the subject was severely lacking. His eyes lifted to the older alchemist's face, unsure and pleading, and Roy's expression softened somewhat, leaning to press a kiss to the younger man's forehead.

"Relax, Edward. I won't hurt you."

The younger alchemist's expression was doubtful at best, and Roy rolled his eyes, offering another firm stroke to his manhood. "F..uckmee," Ed keened, grip tightening again on the shirt, back lifting from the mattress again. "I've never..." Another hissed curse interrupted the admission when the grip tightened on his length, practically clinging to Roy by this point, legs hooked around his waist, nearly ripping the fabric of the shirt.

Unbuttoning his trousers with his free hand, the Flame Alchemist pressed feather-light kisses to the Elric's throat, murmuring affectionate nonsense that Ed either ignored or didn't hear. Either way, it didn't matter; he was mostly trying to get him to relax, because handjob or not, once Ed realized his virginity was on the line, he'd tensed up and stayed taunt. It wasn't really Ed's fault, but Roy would prefer it being as painless as possible for the younger man. It was in his best interest to calm down.

The lube was in the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed, and while it wasn't necessarily a journey to get it, Roy was reluctant to leave Ed. For one thing, he hadn't exactly asked permission; it wouldn't be completely shocking if the blonde teen bolted, and Roy couldn't really blame him for doing so. For another, a wanton, flushed Edward Elric was something no one in their right mind would walk away from; if Roy thought he could get away with it, he'd never let the blonde leave his bed again now that he'd finally landed in it.

It was with great reluctance that the older man removed himself from Edward, offering an apologetic kiss and a final, firm stroke before pulling away, pants dropping to the hardwood floor as he stood. A whine of protest at the sudden abandonment escaped Ed before he even thought about it, and he struggled to his elbow to observe the other man, greatly displeased at the reminder that the bastard in front of him had taken his arm off. What a dick. It had been completely unnecessary, and now he had to focus on balancing himself instead of admiring the excellent view of Roy's ass.

To be honest, he had never put enough thought into sex of any sort to realize right off the bat what the bottle was in Roy's hand. Any urges he might have had were generally crushed before they came to light; he had more important things to worry about. He couldn't go out and get laid when Al couldn't even have a fucking nap, could he? It was selfish of him. So lube had never even occurred to him, honestly.

When Roy turned back around, any work he'd done to relax him previously went out the window. Ed stiffened, cheeks burning, and Roy raised an eyebrow in question. And what was the problem this time? "That won't fit," the Elric protested, attempting to get into a sitting position to scoot further away. "No way, Mustang. Fuck off."

The older man snorted, bemused, rolling his eyes, beginning to unbutton his shirt. At least it wasn't a major problem; Ed was just being dramatic. Shock of shocks. "It'll fit. Don't worry." By the time he had the shirt undone and abandoned on the floor, the Elric had his back pressed against the headboard, watching Roy warily, as though he were going to attack him. Unfortunately, that was somewhat less adorable than writhing on the bed under him, but considering how easily he reacted to everything, the Flame Alchemist wasn't overly concerned.

Crawling back onto the bed, Roy grabbed the other boy's automail ankle, dragging him closer in a quick motion. "You're being ridiculous," his tone was fond, and he muffled any objections from Ed with an affectionate kiss, a hand slipping back to release the other man's long golden hair from its braid. "It'll be fine." The look he got was reluctant at best, but the younger alchemist nodded after a moment or two, leaning to offer an almost shy kiss, still not entirely convinced. Ah, well. At least he was willing to try. Roy really couldn't complain. Because honestly, if Ed really didn't want to do this, he wouldn't be able to force him. It was by the blonde's good graces that this was allowed at all; he might be missing the arm, but he was pure muscle, and he still had an automail leg that could pack a nasty punch. Not even going into the guilt of forcing him; as it was, he was pressuring him a bit, but Ed wasn't really one to submit to such things if he wasn't already interested.

Popping the cork on the bottle, he coated his fingers with the slick substance, pressing insistent kisses along the younger male's collarbone, the other hand leaving teasing touches along the underside of Edward's length. Slipping in the first finger to the knuckle, Roy felt Edward tense around the digit, an unfamiliar presence, and waited a moment or two for him to adjust before adding a second. Curling the fingers, he set to work on stretching the other alchemist out, his other hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, coaxing a soft groan from the teenager.

He allotted more time than usual for the preparation of his bed partner; after all, it was Ed's first time, and he was nervous to begin with. Roy really didn't particularly want to ruin the experience for him by going into it too fast, but fuck, was it difficult to resist just taking the trembling body mewling beneath him. Far more self control than expected. But he managed, if only for the reminder that if this went well, this wouldn't be the only time he claimed the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Shifting Ed's legs around him, he quickly took care of lubing his own neglected manhood up, before his hands moved to grip the younger man's hips. Meeting Ed's eyes, he pressed a briefly comforting kiss to his swollen lips, before, with a quick twitch of his hips, he took the prodigy's virginity.

The blonde practically snarled the curse, back lifting off the bed in a futile attempt to escape the pain of penetration, fingers digging into the older man's back, likely bruising him. Not that Roy could really blame him, murmuring apologies, teeth grazing the younger man's throat, grip tightening on his hips. "It'll fade, Edward. Calm down."

"You said it wouldn't hurt," Ed hissed, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. Shitshitshit. This was not how he fucking expected to spend his night. Lying fucking Colonel, fucking trying to get into his pants, _fuck_. This was bullshit. He could be asleep right now.

Well, Roy had said something similar to that, he would agree. But he wasn't lying when he said it would be fine. Kissing the tears from the other boy's cheeks, the older alchemist shifted slightly, adjusting himself inside the younger male. Complaints aside, Edward had started to relax again, or as much as Roy expected him to. The ache wouldn't really get forgotten until they started moving.

Which Roy was more than happy to do, pulling out slightly just to rock back inside the tight warmth, mouth claiming the other man's again, covering a quiet grunt from the blonde. It took a couple thrusts before Roy even got close to what he was looking for, but if he could say anything about Ed, it was that he didn't hide much. His body reacted almost instantly, a whine escaping him, and Roy didn't give him a chance to recover from the near strike before hitting the bundle of nerves directly. Edward arched in his arms, a moan entirely too lewd to be acceptable sending shivers down Roy's spine.

Thoroughly pleased to have a needy partner once more, Roy roughened up, grip tightening to pull Ed firmly against him as he rammed into him. The blonde certainly didn't seem to have any objections, moans falling easily at each thrust, his former concerns apparently forgotten. "Fu-_uck_, Mustang," the Elric panted, hand buried in dark hair, trying to focus past the demanding pace his superior had set and the mouth currently assaulting his neck once more. Whatever thought he may have been grasping at vanished, though, when fingers wrapped around his manhood again, legs clenching around the other man's waist. "Ahh, fuck! Mustang -"

"No," the older alchemist grunted, biting down on the Elric's throat, kissing the spot after, grip tightening on the other man's length. "Use my name, Edward." his own voice was strained, but with his demand came a stop in motion, both his hand and hips. What. The. Fuck.

Ed nearly sobbed with frustration; he was so fucking close and _fucking goddamnit_ this was ridiculous. "Move!" the blonde bucked his hips, practically begging; how the Hell could that motherfucker think stopping now was okay? "Please, Roy, _move_," He'd barely finished the other man's name before he was slammed into again, back arching, chests bumping against one another. Roy's name became a mumbled, desperate chant, and the dark-haired man was pretty sure he wouldn't ever hear his name sounding as nice as it did coming from a needy Fullmetal Alchemist. Definitely have to make this a more regular occurrence.

It wasn't much of a surprise that Ed came first, crying out, body going rigid against the older man's. The sudden contraction of the blonde's muscles was enough to send Roy over the edge, a breathy moan muffled against the soft skin of his subordinate's throat.

The blonde was still reeling from his orgasm when Roy pulled out of him, leaving him feeling strangely empty, and he offered a shudder at the suddenly cool air. He'd been plenty warm under another body, but Ed wasn't even sure if he wanted to complain or not about the lack of cuddling. He didn't have time to decide, one way or the other, though, before the warmth was back, Roy pulling the younger man back against his chest, effectively deciding the course of action. Despite himself, Ed relaxed against the older alchemist with a heavy sigh, eyes closing automatically as the Flame Alchemist drew the covers - which had been kicked unceremoniously down by their feet earlier - over them. He was fucking exhausted; no way was he going anywhere tonight.

Conversation could wait till tomorrow.


End file.
